Little Whispers
by valonqar
Summary: Love will scar your makeup. Malo, Ceffy, Naomily, Chral, Cassid drabbles.


"_I don't think you know how to love anything."_

But that's not true. Mini knows how to love lots of things. She loves her clothes, and her lipstick, and she really loves her hair. She loves her bedroom, even though it's pink and entirely too childish for a girl her age - especially a girl who's about to have a baby, but she'd rather not think about that at the moment. She had loved her dog, back when she had one, and she loved vodka, and weed, and parties and drinking and sex. Sex with Alo, specifically, because sex with Nick had just been...unsatisfactory, to say the least.

So yeah, Alo was wrong. She knew how to love things. She could love things pretty well, actually. It was people she struggled with.

She liked them. She really did. She liked Franky, because Franky made her smile and Franky didn't judge her and Franky fucked up more than anyone, more than her, but she always made things better. She liked Liv because Liv didn't take anything seriously, hadn't taken a single fucking thing seriously in all her life - but that was before Gracie died. And she had liked Grace because no matter what you did, not matter how much of a fucking bitch you were, no matter how royally and completely you fucked up, Grace always forgave you. No matter what.

But there was nobody around to forgive Mini anymore. Her mum would, but that was because she was her mum, and that was what mum's did. They gave you a hug and a kiss and continued on their way, even after you did something so horrible you were convinced they would never speak to you again. Her mum always forgave her, Grace always forgave her, but Alo wouldn't.

She knew how to love lots of things. She just didn't know how to love any_one._

xx

"_What're you so afraid of?"_

Isn't that a question.

She wants to tell him. He's the fucking father of her baby, the only person she cares about. Of course she wants to tell him. But she can't, and he's right - she is afraid. Not that he'll be like her dad, because if Alo leaves, it won't be because he doesn't give a shit about her. He loves her, she knows that well enough, and he's willing to put up a fight, to stick by her through all her shit. So if he leaves, it won't be because he's stopped caring, or he doesn't care enough, or he never cared at all.

If he picks up and leaves, it'll be because she's finally pushed him to the edge.

It used to be a game Mini would play, before Nick, long before Alo, with the boys who took it upon themselves to chase after her and her golden hair. She would be sweet to them at first, bat her eyelashes and give them kisses on their cheeks, soft as a butterfly's wings, making them fall in love with her slowly, and then all at once. And once she had them wrapped around her fingers, she would bitch and moan and fight and kick and scream, just to see how long they would stick around in the hopes that their little princess came back again, with her sickly-sweet smiles and candy-coated words.

And she had laughed, because they all stayed. Not just for days, but for weeks, for months. They all stuck around, bought her chocolates and put flowers in her hair, chocolates that she would throw in the garbage and flowers that she would crush, all because they were in love with a memory. With an illusion. She used to love to push them away, because it gave her more power than she had ever had, and she was always craving _more_.

She doesn't want to push Alo away. She doesn't want to go back to being their girl with the false smile and the wide eyes. Mini knows it, and Farm Boy knows it, which is what she's so afraid of.

He believes that she's changed for good. She doesn't think she's really changed at all.

xx

"_You're actually alright."_

Mini remembers the moment he said that to her clear as day. It's not really the best of compliments - no girl dreams about a boy calling her _alright_, but it's probably the most genuine thing anyone's ever said to her. They can call her pretty, and fun, and whatever else they want, but the fact of the matter is that they're all thinking the same thing. She's a bitch. She's a fucking bitch, rude, a tease, just mean. And she knows it. She's never really liked it, but it's who she's been all her life. She's never known anything else.

But then Alo calls her _alright._ It's not nice, it's not sweet, it's not wonderful or fantastic or amazing or the best person to have ever walked the planet. It's _alright_.

And it's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to her.

She almost wants to ask him about it now. Ask him if he realizes just how much it meant to her when he told her that. But she doesn't want to, because really, it's Alo. She highly doubts he thought about just what he was saying before he said it to her; he wanted to thank her, but not in a way that actually involved thanking, and not in a way that involved inflating her ego or making her think he was more thankful that he was. He hadn't known, but in a way she thinks subconsciously, he might have. At least, she hopes.

In any way, he tells her she's _actually alright_, and she smiles and says that _yeah, I am_, and if she's got anything to hold on to now that her world's gone to shit, it's that.

xx


End file.
